Compulsions
by A Drama Queen
Summary: Vanity decides he needs Grouchy by his side, so the narcissist makes it his mission to drag the grump kicking and screaming into his loving embrace for all eternity. Grouchy isn't sure how to, ah, respond appropriately to Vanity's affections. They want each other, hate each other, want to smash each other's heads on a rock, but hey, that's love.


_Magnificent_, Vanity hummed as he looked in his mirror, standing underneath the great oak. That was really the only way the smurf could describe himself. He dragged a hand down his cheek, unmarked skin just the right shade of smurfy blue. He tilted his head so a pair of pretty light blue eyes caught the sunlight and shimmered like… like a fresh stream… or, uhm… diamonds! Yes, just like beautiful diamonds. He smiled at his reflection. Completely flawless -

A bulky mass hurtled across the forest floor and slammed into him, tossing his _wonderful_ self on to the dirty, muddy ground. His eyes squeezed shut and his free arm flew to protect his precious face just as he collided with the earth. Smurfs will roll, he promised himself as he felt cool grass press up against his cheek, if his pants were stained.

Vanity cracked one eye open with an almost morbid curiosity. A smurf simultaneously sporting a hideous combination of red hair and plaid was lying a few feet away, moaning. Gutsy, he should have known. The smurf never saw where he was going, color blind as he obviously was.

Vanity was vaguely aware of a voice that was just dripping with S_cottish_ spouting an apology, but didn't bother to respond. Honestly, sometimes, the other smurfs just weren't worth his time.

"And I'd thought you were an oafish fool before. A giant slingsmurf, Gutsy? You have truly fallen deep into the abyss of stupidity."

Gutsy grinned dopily up at Grouchy, who had walked up to the two smurfs as if they were an interesting. "Ya shoulda' seen meh fly…" Gutsy trailed of dreamily.

Grouchy didn't bother to respond, simply turned to Vanity and grudgingly offered a hand to help him up, pointedly annoying Gutsy. Vanity shifted his eyes up and looked at Grouchy's face - really bothered to _look_ for the first time - and felt the universe explode into a barrage of multicolored fireworks and sparkles. Vanity trembled, his eyes stretched wide and a desperate breath caught in his throat.

_...He's gorgeous, _Vanity thought dizzily. And, really, Grouchy was. His complexion was lighter than Vanity's; it would be such a nice contrast to see in a mirror, pressed up against his own sky toned skin, Vanity's fingers running down it, petting it. Grouchy's slight body, Vanity was sure, was just the right size to look good dangling off of his arm - not too little to look pathetic, and not too big to be cumbersome. Vanity wanted to own it, dominate it. Grouchy's eyes were a shining dark blue, reflecting Vanity's likeness like a wonderful, built in, living mirror that made his image absolutely _sparkle._

"Well? Do you want to lie down there all day?" Grouchy snarked, becoming impatient.

Vanity was giddy. His left hand shot forward, his right still holding the mirror, ensnaring Grouchy's own appendage with a forceful grip. Vanity hauled himself up, a happy buzz zipping through his fingertips. He would have kept holding Grouchy's hand, too, if Gutsy hadn't decided to stand up and ruin things _again._

"Woooohyyyy! Whadda ride, eh?" Gutsy marched right through the two smurf's linked hands, breaking the contact and making Vanity's eye twitch. Grouchy was unimpressed, remaining expressionless except for a single raised eyebrow. Vanity smirked in approval. Good, remaining calm and composed in the presence of imbeciles was a good quality to have. It would come in handy during their future relationship, he was sure. Vanity studied Grouchy as he retreated into the distance with Gutsy without even bothering to say good bye.

Vanity supposed that he didn't actually have a lot to consider about the situation. He closed his eyes momentarily and smiled. Grouchy was extremely desirable, while Vanity was faultless and therefore rightfully deserving of anything remotely comparable to himself. Consequently, Vanity reasoned, Grouchy belonged to him. Or at least he would rather soon. It was the most logical course events could take.

Vanity began walking toward the river smurf. He always did his best thinking while gazing lovingly at himself in the water, and he needed to come up with a smurfy plan. Grouchy, Vanity had a feeling, would need some persuasion to see things his way.

Not much convincing though. After all, Vanity mused as he strolled, they were both perfect, and Grouchy would sense that. There was really no way anything could go wrong.


End file.
